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Portrait
vivid tableaus. Large canvases blossomed in the whiteness like roses,
dazzling splashes of colour – a house in a meadow, the backlit
panorama of city streets, a red room, an abstract, grid-like array of
red and yellow lights, a forest lit by the ethereal rays of the sunrise...
Audrey looked at them all as she passed, and her throat
constricted.
The last painting stopped her in her tracks.
The painting was a portrait of a young blonde girl holding a
paintbrush and wearing a straw hat, and it could not have been any
clearer to her that it was Chelsea.
Her heart lightened for the first time in weeks.
‘
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